


Secret Video Diary of a Billionaire

by sturmundwank



Series: Secret Video Diary of a Billionaire [1]
Category: The Social Network
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Post-Canon, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sturmundwank/pseuds/sturmundwank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe today was a bad time to admit this, but I’m in love with my best friend. Ex-best friend.</p><p>(pause)</p><p>Ex-only friend, to be honest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Video Diary of a Billionaire

**Author's Note:**

> This is not meant to be taken seriously. I repeat, this is not meant to be taken seriously. It's a fucking fanscript. A slash screenplay, if you will. (More like a couple of scenes, really.)

TITLE:

**October 15, 2010**

 

FROM THE BLACK WE HEAR—

 

 

MARK (V.O.)

Maybe today was a bad time to admit this, but I’m in love with my best friend. Ex-best friend.

    (pause)    

Ex-only friend, to be honest.

 

FADE IN:

 

INT. FACEBOOK OFFICES, NEW YORK CITY – NIGHT

 

MARK ZUCKERBERG is seated behind an imposing desk. His office has a panoramic view of NEW YORK CITY, but he’s turned away from it. He’s dressed expensively and by someone whose job it is to dress him. His office is Spartan, but very stylish and nothing like MARK himself. Despite the wealth he’s flaunting, MARK looks uncomfortable and tense.

 

The camera is trained squarely on him.

 

 

MARK

    (can’t look at the camera)    

It’s not actually as big of an inconvenience as my therapist thinks it is. She always brings it up. Every time. Which would be amusing if she wasn’t essentially being paid $300 per hour to project her high-school insecurities on me.

 

CUT TO:

 

EXT./EST. COFFEEHOUSE – DAY

 

A busy but atmospheric STREET. We see a sea of young professionals, fashionistas, rich old people and brightly dressed teenagers. Some greenery completes this picture of privilege and affluency.

 

EDUARDO SAVERIN exits a coffeehouse with a cup of coffee in hand and disappears into the crowd. The camera pans out to give us a view of MANHATTAN.

 

[“Suburban War”](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNdqoQWz34E) fades in, slowly—

 

ARCADE FIRE

PEOPLE TOLD ME WE WOULD NEVER SURVIVE

SO GRAB YOUR MOTHER’S KEYS, WE LEAVE TONIGHT

YOU STARTED A WAR THAT YOU CAN’T WIN

THEY KEEP ERASING ALL THE STREETS

WE GREW UP IN

NOW THE MUSIC DIVIDES US INTO TRIBES

YOU CHOOSE YOUR SIDE

I’LL CHOOSE MY SIDE

ALL MY OLD FRIENDS, THEY DON’T KNOW ME NOW

 

 

 

MARK (V.O.)

    (over the song, at “They keep erasing…”)     

Or maybe I would be just as unamused even if she was doing it for free. I can’t decide.

 

CUT TO:

 

EXT. THE STREETS OF NEW YORK CITY – DAY

 

As EDUARDO navigates the pedestrian traffic, it becomes obvious he’s in a hurry to get somewhere. He’s almost jogging, but slows down when he has to squeeze in between people.

 

The camera follows him from afar as he walks, hurriedly buys a newspaper, and looks at his watch.

 

 

MARK (V.O. CONT’D)

I hadn’t seen him in six months. He doesn’t come to the board meetings very often.

 

CUT TO:

 

EXT. OFFICE BUILDING – DAY

 

EDUARDO is climbing the stairway to the entrance of a building. It looks colossal. He’s gulping down the last of his coffee.

“Suburban War” fades out as we behold the sheer scale of it all.

 

 

MARK (V.O. CONT’D)

Today we talked about changing our privacy policy. Apparently our privacy policy makes people uncomfortable, like almost everything that doesn’t somehow make them dumber.

 

CUT TO:

 

INT. ELEVATOR – DAY

 

EDUARDO walks into an elevator together with many other people in business attire. The camera follows him inside. The elevator starts going up.

 

 

MARK (V.O. CONT’D)

I guess what _really_ makes people uncomfortable is the soul-crushing realisation that their presence on Facebook is mostly about balancing emotional exhibitionism and chronic hypocrisy, but I’ve been advised not to say ‘emotional exhibitionism and chronic hypocrisy’ in public. Which is kind of ironic when you think about it.

 

The elevator gets progressively less crowded as EDUARDO adjusts his tie and begins to fidget.

 

CUT TO:

 

INT. LOBBY – DAY

 

The elevator doors slide open. EDUARDO is the only person inside. This is the last floor.

 

EDUARDO walks out and braces himself. He’s about to go into the board meeting.

 

 

MARK (V.O. CONT’D)

So anyway, we decided to hold today’s meeting in New York and Wardo decided to attend. He didn’t come alone.

 

EDUARDO enters the room.

 

CUT TO:

 

INT./EST. CONFERENCE ROOM – DAY

 

There are many people in attendance, seated around a large round table. The meeting hasn’t begun yet and people are chatting quietly with each other.

 

EDUARDO takes the seat next to NATALIE, his new assistant. MARK is there, in the other end of the room, but the camera doesn’t single him out.

 

 

EDUARDO

     (smiling, to NATALIE)

Did I miss anything?

 

EDUARDO leafs through the print-outs he finds on the table. He’s already prepared for the meeting, but he goes over the graphs and numbers again.

 

 

NATALIE

Zuckerberg tried to engage me in some weird pissing contest when I came in, but I told him I wasn’t carrying a functional dick in my purse today.

 

 

EDUARDO

Did he say anything to you?

 

 

NATALIE

Of course he said something to me. That’s what I said.

 

 

EDUARDO

No, I mean—I’m sorry, I mean, did he insult you?

 

 

NATALIE

    (lying)

Not—not really. First he would have had to acknowledge the fact that I was pissing him off. I don’t think he wanted to do that.

 

 

EDUARDO

Then you weren’t pissing him off.

 

 

NATALIE

I guess I’ll have to try harder.

 

 

EDUARDO

Join a club.

 

 

NATALIE

    (beat)

The club.

 

 

EDUARDO

    (distracted, looking at the print-outs again)

What?

 

 

NATALIE

Join _the_ club.

 

 

EDUARDO

No, almost any club will do with Mark, as long as he’s not in it.

 

 

NATALIE

What?

 

A booming voice interrupts them—

 

 

ROBINSON

May I have your attention please?

 

The noise in the room dies down. EDUARDO and NATALIE turn to the speaker. It’s ROBINSON, a heavy-set, youngish corporate type whom EDUARDO knows and dislikes vaguely.

 

 

ROBINSON (CONT’D)

Thank you and good day. We all know why we’re here, so let’s get on with it and leave the socialising for tonight. Did everybody read the proposed changes?

 

Noises of assent.

 

 

ROBINSON (CONT’D)

Great. I think we should go over them one by one and see if anything jumps out, if everyone is amenable? OK, let’s get this show on the road.

    (he starts to read)

_One. Information obtained from deactivated user accounts. One-point-one. Pictures uploaded to the servers of Facebook. One-point-one-point-one. Users’ pictures will no longer be stored on the servers of Facebook for a period longer than than two weeks after the deactivation of—_

 

ROBINSON’s voice becomes a distant echo. The camera is still trained on him.

 

 

MARK (V.O.)

The thing is, she was really pissing me off.

 

FADE IN:

 

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – DAY (EARLIER THAT MORNING)

 

ROBINSON and the people around him DISAPPEAR from the room, though ROBINSON’s voice can still be heard faintly, and we see NATALIE enter the shot. She takes off her coat. MARK is already in his seat, with his feet on the table. He’s playing with a pencil. They’re not alone, but NATALIE is the only woman in the room.

 

 

MARK

    (to NATALIE)     

Who are you?

 

 

NATALIE

Hi, I’m Natalie. Natalie Cox. And you must be Mr Zuckerberg.

 

 

MARK

    (beat)     

Let me rephrase that. Why are you here?

 

 

NATALIE

I’m Eduardo’s assistant. I believe you were informed I’d be here today?

 

 

MARK

Ah, yes.

 

MARK puts his feet down and turns away. He’s tuned out. A businessman comes over to introduce himself and shake NATALIE’s hand. She sits down and takes out a few sheets of paper. Some time passes before MARK abruptly turns to her and says—

 

 

MARK

Hey, Nellie—

 

 

NATALIE

    (smiling)

Natalie.

 

 

MARK

Sure, Natalie. Sorry. How did you become Eduardo’s assistant?

 

 

NATALIE

I applied. I was interviewed. It turned out I was the only candidate who tried to greet him in Portuguese. I think he liked that. Why do you ask?

 

 

MARK

It’s just, you’re too attractive for your looks not to have been a factor in the decision. I was wondering if you knew that.

 

 

NATALIE

That I’m attractive?

 

 

MARK

That you were hired because you’re attractive.

 

 

NATALIE

Actually, I was hired because I already had some teaching experience.

 

 

MARK

    (beat)

Teaching experience.

 

 

NATALIE

I’m his teaching assistant.

    (pause)

You know, at Brown?

 

 

MARK (V.O.)

Actually, I didn’t know that.

 

CUT BACK TO:

 

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – DAY

 

We return to the board meeting. We’ve skipped about half an hour, but ROBINSON is still talking—

 

 

ROBINSON

No, we’ll still have the rights to the pictures, but we pledge not to exercise them after the account has been deleted. So we delete the pictures too.

 

 

BOARD MEMBER #1 (WEBSTER)

So, basically, we’re making it impossible for people to reactivate their accounts?

 

 

MARK

That’s already the case. Theoretically.

    (pause)

Like Fecund universes.

 

 

BOARD MEMBER #2 (ROTH)

Look, is the pictures thing really so important? We should be talking about losing profile information and interests.

 

 

ROBINSON

That’s not until—

    (checks)     

Article one-point-six, Mr Roth.

 

A few people titter.

 

 

ROTH

What I’m trying to say is, the pictures thing is meaningless in the grand scheme of things. This discussion should have been over half an hour ago.

 

 

WEBSTER

Facebook made the rules, people agreed to them and now they want different rules. And they’re going to get them. That’s why we’re still having this discussion.

 

 

ROTH

We’re not actually losing money from _that_ , though.

 

 

WEBSTER

We might be losing money from that for all we know.

 

 

MARK

Is it just me, or does economics always sound so mysterious at these meetings?

 

 

ROBINSON

    (beat)     

Maybe we should revisit this later. _One-point-one-point-tw—_

 

 

MARK

It’s a good thing we have some real economists with us today.

 

EDUARDO looks at MARK for the first time.

 

 

MARK (CONT’D)

    (to NATALIE)

Miss Cox, what’s your professional opinion here? Would we lose money if we deleted not only the links to the pictures, but also the pictures themselves?

 

 

NATALIE

I’m not—that’s an interesting question.

 

 

MARK

It is, isn’t it? A fascinating question.

 

 

EDUARDO

    (to ROBINSON)

One-point-one-point-two, you said? Using pictures from deactivated accounts in social advertising? Wouldn’t it be hard to pull them out of circulation once they’re already—

 

 

MARK

    (without looking at EDUARDO)     

No, it wouldn’t. We’re already matching them up with products from their own profiles, we have their names in the external databases too.

    (to NATALIE)

You didn’t answer my question.

 

 

NATALIE

Excuse me?

 

 

MARK

No need to apologise. Or are you doing it preemptively?

 

 

ROBINSON

Thank you, Mr. Saverin, if we would all turn to—

 

 

EDUARDO

If it’s so easy, why are old pages kept in the database after people remove them from their profiles?

 

 

MARK

Because that makes money, believe it or not.

 

 

EDUARDO

And you’re all about making money, aren’t you?

 

By now the room is completely silent.

 

 

MARK

I don’t see your point. It may have escaped your notice, but we’re actually running a profitable business here, so—

 

 

EDUARDO

Don’t tell me you’re running a business here. Don’t.

 

 

MARK

As you wish.

    (to NATALIE)

You still haven’t answered my question. Is your inability to do so in any way indicative of the teaching methods at Brown? I’m still bitter I was waitlisted there, but maybe it was for the best.

 

 

EDUARDO

Jesus Christ.

 

 

NATALIE

I don’t even remember the question, to be honest.

 

 

MARK

There are so many things I could say to that.

 

 

NATALIE

Could you repeat the question?

 

 

MARK

Why would I do that?

 

 

NATALIE

You said you expected me to answer.

 

 

MARK

I don’t anymore. Danger averted.

 

 

EDUARDO

_Mark_.

 

 

NATALIE

If you have to say something to me, Mr. Zuckerberg, feel free to say it.

 

 

MARK

I want to say that I severely doubt your expertise and talent, and also maybe to advise you not to wear a knee-length skirt the next time you attend a business meeting shortly after giving a blowjob, but I won’t. Because that would be rude.

 

 

EDUARDO

    (beginning to rise from his seat)

That’s enough—

 

 

NATALIE

I have no idea what I did to offend you. But it’s very clear that you’re doing everything in your power to offend _me_.

 

 

MARK

    (beat)

I am offended by your vast underestimation of my power to offend.

 

 

NATALIE

This is absurd. You are absurd.

 

 

EDUARDO

Mark—

 

 

MARK

No more absurd than Brown’s recruitment policies, of which Emma Watson’s admission seems to be a pretty pedestrian example—

 

 

ROBINSON

I think now’s as good a time as any to adjourn. Be back at, let’s see, 1:30 pm? Yes. Thank you. Meeting adjourned.

 

Everybody is stunned, except for MARK, who is perfectly serene, NATALIE, who gathers her papers and exits the room, and EDUARDO, who follows her out.

 

CUT TO:

 

INT. MEN’S WASHROOM – DAY

 

MARK is calmly washing his hands. He is alone in front of a wall-to-wall mirror. The room is spacious and well-lit.

 

The door opens and EDUARDO BURSTS IN, furious. He’s silent for a moment, trembling and speechless, and then he erupts—

 

 

EDUARDO

What is _wrong_ with you?

 

 

MARK

    (still facing the sink)

Nothing.

 

EDUARDO takes a step forward, clenching his fists.

 

 

EDUARDO

Oh yeah? Everything’s fine?

 

MARK

I think so, yeah.

 

 

EDUARDO

Then why is my assistant crying in the women’s washroom?

 

 

MARK

    (catching EDUARDO’s eyes in the mirror)     

Why don’t you go and ask her?

 

 

EDUARDO

I did.

    (pause)     

God, you’re an asshole. You’re the biggest asshole I know.

 

 

MARK

And you’re the only professor I know. Well, no. Technically you’re not, but that doesn’t diminish your achievement. You should be proud of yourself, Wardo.

 

 

EDUARDO

    (beat)     

The Ph.D. It’s the Ph.D. Of course it is. Is this like the Phoenix thing for you?

 

 

MARK

It’s nothing like the Phoenix thing.

 

EDUARDO starts pacing. The room is too small for his helpless anger.

 

 

EDUARDO

Because—wait, no. No no no. This is about Natalie. It’s not about my life, it’s not even about what an irredeemable back-stabbing asshole you’ve been to me, it’s about the fact that my T.A. is crying in the women’s washroom right now because I made the mistake of bringing her within earshot of you. Do you even realise—do you have any idea what you’ve done? Why it’s wrong?

 

MARK turns around to face EDUARDO.

 

 

MARK

    (beat)     

I didn’t mean to make her cry.

 

 

EDUARDO

Of course you didn’t. You just started being you, and you didn’t know how to stop.

 

EDUARDO runs a hand over his face. MARK is silent.

 

 

EDUARDO (CONT’D)

    (to himself)

Why am I here, why am I even here.

 

 

MARK

Why did you bring her here, Wardo?

 

 

EDUARDO

Because she’s studying corporate governance! She was excited about sitting in on a board meeting. She talked about it for weeks.

    (pause)     

I should have known this would happen.

 

 

MARK

Are you sleeping with her?

 

EDUARDO stops pacing and stares at MARK.

 

 

EDUARDO

Am I sleeping with her? _Am I sleeping with her?_

 

 

MARK

    (pained)     

You know how much I hate repeating myself.

 

 

EDUARDO

What—you don’t have the right to ask me about my personal life. Why do you even care? Why do you care, Mark?

 

MARK is studying the ceiling and doesn’t meet EDUARDO’s eyes. EDUARDO’s anger flares up.

 

 

EDUARDO (CONT’D)

Why do you care now, of all times? Who do you think you are? After you froze me out of _the company I fucking co-founded with you_ , after Sean, after my girlfriend set my bed on fire, after everything, after you pissed all over our friendship because of a fucking chicken—

 

 

MARK

It was _not_ because of the chicken, will you never let the fucking chicken go—

 

 

EDUARDO

—After you pissed all over our friendship—I don’t care about the chicken, you were the one who told your _lawyers_ about the chicken—after you practically accused my assistant of giving me a—an illicit blowjob and made her cry in front of the board of directors of fucking Facebook—and she fell off her bike! She’s engaged! I honestly can’t believe you—

 

 

MARK

I’m sorry! I’m sorry, all right? Words cannot express the extent of my remorse. I can’t live with myself knowing it was a bike accident and not the blowjob I spent an hour envisioning. And I didn’t tell my lawyers, they were competent enough to open a newspaper on their own. Is that what you want to hear?

 

 

EDUARDO

I don’t know, Mark, is it? Mostly I want you to help me understand. I was so sure I understood, but then it turned out I didn’t understand at all. And that was fine, I thought I’d never have to deal with you again, but then I got my shares back and now I have to deal with you again because you keep making people cry. Again.

 

 

MARK

    (beat)     

When have I ever made people cry before?

 

EDUARDO looks at him in disbelief.

 

 

MARK (CONT’D)

You never told me about that.

 

 

EDUARDO

You know what, I’m leaving. I really wanted to punch you, I figured I ought to punch you at least once in my life, but you’re not even w—

 

MARK kisses EDUARDO. It’s abrupt and almost insultingly quick and we wonder if it even happened as MARK retreats to the opposite wall, afraid.

 

If EDUARDO was looking at MARK in disbelief only seconds ago, now he is astonished almost beyond his capacity to process information.

 

For the rest of the conversation, LONG SHOTS of the washroom will be used to emphasise the distance between EDUARDO and MARK.

 

 

MARK

That’s—you could say that’s a partial explanation of some things. Not all. I don’t want you to think that was the driving force behind my actions in college, or after college, because it wasn’t. I wasn’t even aware of it until I started going to therapy. For the stress.

    (pause)     

But it’s a partial explanation.

 

EDUARDO is still gaping at him. MARK closes his eyes. Everything else is forgotten for one brief moment.

 

 

EDUARDO

Wow.

 

 

MARK

Yeah.

 

 

EDUARDO

In college?

 

 

MARK

Yeah.

 

 

EDUARDO

But—Erica?

 

 

MARK

I needed therapy for that too. Need therapy. It’s an ongoing process.

 

 

EDUARDO

Wow.

 

Suddenly MARK doesn’t want to be there at all. EDUARDO’s silence is scarier than his punches. But then EDUARDO speaks as if from somewhere very far away—

 

 

EDUARDO (CONT’D)

I’m going—I don’t think I’ll be sticking around for the rest of the meeting. I’m going to get Natalie out of her stall, and then we’ll go somewhere. You should apologise to her, you know. Or maybe you don’t.

 

 

MARK

Wardo…

 

 

EDUARDO

No really, you should. You were awful to her, you should apologise. Maybe not in person, though.

    (pause)     

Bye Mark. Have a nice day.

 

EDUARDO exits the washroom. MARK is left leaning on the far wall, looking at nothing in particular.

 

CUT BACK TO:

 

INT. FACEBOOK OFFICES, NEW YORK CITY – NIGHT

 

We return to MARK in his office. He looks up from his lap and stares straight at the camera.

 

 

MARK

The board of directors is hosting a charity dinner right now. I told them I was feeling sick, which wasn’t too far from the truth.

    (pause)     

I’m not sure what else to say. My stomach is killing me. Is this a good enough feeling?

 

MARK doesn’t have the energy to argue with his therapist, not even indirectly. He turns his chair AWAY from us and stares at the MANHATTAN SKYLINE.

 

We leave him to his thoughts.

 

And—

 

FADE TO BLACK

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to stick to the format and style of Sorkin's writing, but I'm nowhere near as talented as him. If you want to see what a real movie script looks like, you can download a .pdf of the script of _The Social Network_ [here.](http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&cd=2&ved=0CB8QFjAB&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwiscreenwritersforum.org%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2010%2F01%2FSocial-Network-The-by-Aaron-Sorkin-May-28-2009.pdf&ei=mJ3KTKC1LoWeOrjwzbUB&usg=AFQjCNHC8LQiHnqYgf6JE8vd6s_kEt6UBw&sig2=vH1M1OrMdQDg2AhCElCR-g)
> 
> I stole the idea of Eduardo getting a Ph.D. in economics from [](http://marycontraire.livejournal.com/profile)[**marycontraire**](http://marycontraire.livejournal.com/)'s [stay together for the kids](http://community.livejournal.com/mark_eduardo/3361.html?thread=67361#t67361), which is awesome and cool. Go read it! And then you can read [the equally awesome sequel](http://sturmundwank.livejournal.com/1767.html?thread=9703#t9703), which was birthed in the comments to this very story over on LJ!
> 
> I have zero knowledge about board meetings, Brown, what people talk about at board meetings, New York, databases or anything specific in the world ever. If you spot some glaring inaccuracy in my writing, please tell me.
> 
> Lastly, this was initially conceived as a much larger story, which is why to you, the reader, it might seem angsty and hopeless when in my head it's anything but. Bear in mind that this is Mark's first foray into the jungle of vlogging or whatever the fuck. It's, like, 10–15 minutes of an actual movie. Probably. Maybe. Anyway. If I ever gather enough courage to revisit this disaster (which I still intend to do, though it's been over two years now and who knows), things will start to look better.
> 
> Arcade Fire, I apologise to you too.  
> 


End file.
